Speared
by ALEO
Summary: There was a ‘pffft’ noise a bare instant before the projectile hit his vest. It kept going, penetrating through the multiple layers of Kevlar and then into his body. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Numb3rs: Speared

**Numb3rs: Speared**

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_**A/N**__: Standalone fic but revisits some characters and locations from my fic "A Nice Day Out". Written for Rinne (Rinkle at LJ) for the Numb3rs Exchange challenge at Live Journal, Summer 2008. This version is the original, the one on LJ was necessarily modified to conceal the author._

_**SPOILERS**__: "When Worlds Collide"_

CHAPTER ONE

The small zodiac bumped gently against the side of the much larger luxury cruiser. Two figures climbed stealthily onto the deck and the zodiac moved away, paddled by a third man. The cruiser was at anchor and there was no sign of life onboard.

The two men stayed together for a few seconds, orienting themselves on the rear deck. A quick check confirmed that the powerboat secured on the aft deck as a tender was unoccupied. It was a size of craft that a lot of Californians would have considered a reasonably decent day boat. The two men shared a look that confirmed they'd both had the same thought. Some people just had too much money.

One man kept watch whilst the other crept closer to the rear door and tried to peer in through the dark tinting. This close the second man could see that the cabin was illuminated but despite that he couldn't see past the blinds that were also drawn into place. He turned back to his dark haired companion and shook his head. _No go_. A few hand signals later the two men split and one went up on either side of the superstructure, heading towards the wheelhouse.

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"Are you sure?"

"_No. That's why I'm passing it to you like this."_ DEA Agent Cam Gideon answered. _"We don't think there is enough in it to run with, not at the moment anyway. My bosses have pulled the operation now that everything has changed. All we do know is that they were supposed to be on a luxury cruiser waiting at that anchorage."_

"So you suspect that they are smuggling people and high end stolen jewellery, maybe some drugs but don't have enough to pull a full raid?" Special Agent Don Eppes, of the Los Angeles FBI office said into the phone summing up the last five minutes of conversation.

"_Not any more. We already have the warrant but I have another op in the works so I can't spare anyone for some recon. I thought you might be interested."_

Don ran his hand down his face and looked around the nearly empty office. It was just after noon on a Sunday and the day was pretty much on a go slow. David was on a day off, something to do with a family commitment. They were still waiting for Megan's replacement which left just him and Colby to hold the fort in their section. So far, with semi-overcast weather and mild temperatures nothing had gone wrong today. Truth to be told he was itching to go outside and had been about to suggest to Colby that they take a cruise in the Suburban to see what they might find, try a few known haunts, shake a few trees, that sort of thing.

"Just one problem, we don't have a boat."

"_No problem at all. It just so happens that the _Seahawk_ is in harbour._"

"The _Seahawk_?" Don repeated. Not so sure he liked the sound of that, last time he was on the Coast Guard Cutter, Cam in the guise of a drug trafficker had held a gun against his head. Whilst he had forgiven Cam who had been undercover at the time, he had not forgiven the other two traffickers, one of whom was now dead. As a result and through no fault of the _Seahawk_ or her crew, he had some negative associations with the vessel. But then he recalled that he also had a positive association, the thought of which lightened his mood.

"_I've already been liaising with Lieutenant Dylan and she was ready to help us out. I'm sure she could run you guys out and back you up."_ Cam continued, seemingly not noticing the slightly flat tone that had been in the agent's voice.

Sarah Dylan Don remembered very well. He kept his thoughts professional, she ran a tight little ship and wasn't afraid to get into the action. "Does she know that you've pulled the pin?"

"_Yeah, just got off the phone with her. They were all set to go but the fleet of boats we were expecting to be led by the cruiser just never eventuated and everything has fallen kinda flat. Just the cruiser has shown and we don't think there will now be anything to find. We got this other big job and have to send our resources that way. We don't need the _Seahawk_ any more."_

"So you think there is nothing in it today, but would like us to check it out for you." Don concluded.

"_Yeah. I just got this feeling that someone should still take a look, you know?"_

He did know. Sometimes it just worked like that, a hunch with nothing to back it up. Nine times out of ten you were wrong, but that one time in ten was the kicker, worth the other nine. Well, he'd wanted to go out and troll around to see if they could find some action and Cam was offering him some on a platter. Something different too, a trip out to sea and just because it went pear-shaped last time didn't mean anything would go wrong this time.

"Okay. Why not? I got Colby here and we got nothing on, so sure."

"_Thanks Don. Let me know how it goes."_

Cam left Don the direct phone number for the _Seahawk_ and he spent a few minutes speaking with Lieutenant Dylan teeing everything up. As the Coast Guard had been ready to roll for the DEA's operation there was nothing they needed to do to be ready for the FBI. They already had all the DEA's intel and the location of the target vessel was programmed into their navigation system. The weather in the area the vessel was anchored was not as pleasant as on shore, a series of drizzly showers were obscuring the area reducing visibility. Those conditions however were perfect for a snappy recon mission.

The plan was to approach the vessel, board and covertly search it before leaving it with hopefully the owners unaware. The warrant faxed over from the DEA was still good. The vessel had been seen to arrive earlier that morning; a powerboat had gone out from shore with one man and had returned to shore with several men. Cam had them under loose surveillance due to his limited manpower and the vessel was believed to be unoccupied. Their mission was to gather whatever intel they could, numbers, names, copies of maps and such like that could lead the DEA to piece together exactly what this crew were into.

"Hey Colby, heads up we got a job." Don outlined the situation to the junior agent.

"Cool." It had been a little while since his last water-ops training and he was looking forward to putting some of it into practice. "I'll get the gear."

An hour and a half later they were walking up the gangplank onto the _Seahawk_, each carrying a bag containing their specialised equipment.

"So let me get this straight, this is the exact same boat where you had that run-in with the drug traffickers that time?" Colby queried as they stopped on the deck. He eyed his boss carefully, that had been a close run thing from what he had told them, being held at gunpoint, beaten and almost taken from the _Seahawk_ onto a gun runner's boat. That could bring back some nasty memories but his boss seemed to be taking it all in stride. Something Colby was not too surprised about on reflection.

"This is the one."

"Agent Eppes, pleased to see you again." A female voice called from above them.

Don and Colby looked up to the small deck at the rear of the wheelhouse and saw the trim figure of the lieutenant. It was Don who answered her. "Lieutenant Dylan. Thanks for the ride."

"No problem." She made her way down the ladder to the deck.

Colby noticed the warm smiles that flitted across two faces before being quickly filed away behind professional masks. Pretending he hadn't noticed the subtle interplay between the two he made his greetings as they were escorted inside. He figured that his boss and the lieutenant had experienced a personal encounter somewhere along the way. Something else he was not surprised about as he covertly ran an appreciative eye over the lieutenant.

"If it's alright with you we might do some safety inspections while you conduct your search." Dylan said as she watched them sort their gear on one of the saloon tables.

"Sounds like a good cover for us." Don agreed. If anyone were to notice the activity on the suspect boat having the others nearby boarded by the Coast Guard for safety inspections would effectively disguise their real purpose. It would take a close observer to see that their black vests were labelled 'FBI' in dull grey lettering and were not self inflating life jackets but neutrally buoyant ballistic vests with tactical harnesses.

It took a further hour and a half to get on site, by which time it was starting to get darker with the intermittent drizzle. The _Seahawk_ was holding station a short distance away from the anchorage, far enough out that her engines on idle were unlikely to be heard.

"Do you want some of my crew to go with you?" Dylan repeated her earlier offer as they prepared to board the zodiac in the _Seahawk's_ stern dock.

Don shook his head, glancing at the boarding party standing ready. "No. Stick with the safety inspections on the other boats as planned."

"Okay. You've got the radio to call us if there are any problems?"

Don patted the pouch on his vest containing the small handheld radio. As with the rest of their gear it was fully waterproof.

The zodiac took them most of the way under the power of its outboard motor. When they got closer however their young skipper cut the motor and pulled out a paddle. Colby grabbed the other one and they paddled in silently. Even with the intel suggesting the vessel was unoccupied it paid to be cautious. After reaching the target they floated off for a few long moments just watching for signs of life. There was nothing. Don nodded and they moved in, climbing stealthily onto the rear deck. After a quick thumbs up the zodiac paddled away, heading back to the _Seahawk_ to pick up their boarding party to start their non-convert inspections.

Now moving along the side of the cabin Don checked each window but as Colby had found with the cabin windows facing the stern deck each was covered with a tightly fitted blind. He moved slowly and quietly, his continued caution rewarded when he thought he heard a voice. He stopped and listened carefully and seconds later heard a second male voice. Another moment and he was sure that the voices were live, not from a television or radio. Quietly he pulled his primary weapon from its holster then activated his radio.

"Colby, caution. There are men onboard." He whispered.

"_How many?"_

"At least two."

"_What do you want to do?"_ Colby's equally hushed voice queried. _"Execute the warrant?"_

"Recon and assess first." Don advised. Those involved in smuggling, whether of people, valuables or drugs were dangerous as his first hand experience could attest. The DEA wanted intel; he would try and get it. The DEA had suggested that a covert raid would be optimum given the circumstances but that may not be possible now. With the cabin occupied there would be no other way to gain any information without overtly executing the warrant. He didn't want to leave with nothing. If there were just the two men it was worth the risk, if there were more they would slip away as quietly as they had came to consult with the DEA before coming back better prepared.

"_Roger that."_

He considered calling the zodiac back but discarded that. Even paddled by hand the approach of the small boat may be noticed and he didn't want to risk that unnecessarily. They could swim away if they had to. He leant back against the cabin wall and tried to hear what was being said inside. Pressing his ear against the fibreglass only made it possible for him to tell that the voices were male and that there were at least two, nothing else. He moved forward a little more in the hope that the cabin wall may be thinner and allow more sound through.

His stealth was shot all to hell a moment later. The shrill noise sent a jolt of adrenalin through his body. Instantly recognising the sound there was no time for self recrimination as he scrabbled furiously in his pocket for the offending instrument. A moment later he got it stopped as it was just starting on the second burst. He'd slipped the cell phone into his pocket as he'd geared up intending to take it out just before they got into the zodiac but clearly he'd forgotten. Unlike the rest of his gear it wasn't waterproof. He should have taken the additional safety measure regardless and switched it to vibrate instead of ring, but he hadn't. He couldn't help but be furious at himself for the rookie mistake.

He was frozen in place, weapon up and scanning as he listened through the cabin wall. The ebb and flow of the voices continued their muffled conversation as if nothing had happened. _Could he be so lucky?_ He waited a little longer but still no change. Releasing his pent up breath he forced himself to relax, by some miracle his blunder had not been noticed. Perhaps the thickness of the cabin walls had come to his aid. His pulse settling back to a more reasonable rhythm he started moving forwards once again. Hopefully he would be able to see inside the cabin area via another window further forward. Passing each one he checked but all were covered by blinds.

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"How much longer, Tolya?"

"Not long, we-" The second man started to answer. His boss could be too impatient at times. Not that Tolya would ever tell him so of course, he valued his life. It would take time for those that had gone ashore to prepare the meet. This dry run with just the one boat had so far gone to plan but experience had taught him that you could never be sure. A sudden unexpected sound from the other side of the bulkhead interrupted him. It stopped quickly but he had recognised it, as had his boss. So much for plans.

"Who's out there?"

"No one." Tolya replied, looking around the cabin at the rest of their men. Everyone was accounted for.

"You and you, keep talking." Kamenev ordered, pointing at Tolya and one of the other men. As they started a banal conversation he headed towards a cabin window and peered carefully around the edge of the blind.

A short distance away he saw a zodiac alongside a nearby boat. The inflatable craft was clearly marked with the last thing he had wanted to see, 'USCG'. He also saw a man moving openly along the side deck of the other boat. The American Coast Guard were boarding boats in the anchorage. To his suspicious mind that meant only one thing, the Americans were not just looking for something they were looking for them. The cell phone ring that he'd just heard through the bulkhead of his own boat confirmed that they had also been boarded. He returned to his men.

"It's a raid." He gave a quick description of what he'd seen. He waved his hand in the air in a circling motion, _keep talking_. Tolya and Maksim obediently continued their conversation.

Kamenev moved to the bulkhead and listened carefully for movement along the side deck. He was rewarded with a slight scraping noise and then another as the raider apparently believing he'd been undetected resumed his path, heading towards the front of the boat. He turned back to his lieutenant noting that he and the other men had now drawn their weapons.

"No. That'll just alert them." Kamenev went to the rack at the rear of the cabin and carefully selected a weapon. Checking the gauge on the side he saw that it was ready, he always kept these weapons primed. Handing it to Tolya he pointed towards the side door. The Coast Guard officer would be passing it shortly if the soft footsteps were any indication.

"There will be more than one." Tolya objected softly, hefting the one-shot weapon.

"I have only heard this one here. We take him quietly then search for the other."

Tolya could be happy with that. He was also going to enjoy this, having always wanted to try this style of weapon out on a man. He moved to the door and waited for the raider to pass before pulling it open, weapon already lowered and aimed at where the raider should be.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Numb3rs: Speared**

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER TWO

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A sliding noise behind him alerted the agent. He turned quickly, weapon up and tracking but it wasn't enough. The man standing half in, half out of the door received a cursory glance but the item in his hands was another matter. Don didn't immediately recognise the object that was held up and steadily aimed at his chest. That wasn't important, it was a weapon and it was aimed at him. That was as much information as he needed. He prepared to fire. Unfortunately the man was already in the motion of pulling his trigger.

There was a _'pffft'_ noise a bare instant before the projectile hit his vest. It kept going, penetrating through the multiple layers of Kevlar and then into his body. Still it didn't stop, a fluke allowing it to pass between his ribs and deeply into his upper left chest before stopping, the remaining length of aluminium projecting well over two feet from his body.

His own shot went wild, the impact and pain throwing his aim completely off, the discharged round flying uselessly out into space. His weapon tumbled from his suddenly nerveless hand to bounce once before landing with a splash in the water. Staggering backwards against the rail he managed to hold onto consciousness. He almost succumbed a moment later when there was a sudden sharp tug and he felt the barb catch inside his chest. His breathing hitched and then he coughed, feeling wetness upon his lips. His legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees on the deck.

Despite the agony and the shock his mind had continued to analyse the situation and he finally recognised the weapon. It was a powerful pneumatic spear gun. The type of ballistic vest he was wearing was not designed to stop pointed weapons, just bullets. The Kevlar had provided some minimal protection however, preventing the spear from going completely through his body. With the barb set inside his chest the question of whether that protection was of benefit to him though was highly debateable. There was a crackle in his ear from his radio but he barely noticed it.

"Get up!" An accented voice snarled.

Changing his focus from his chest outwards along the shaft and up he saw that there was a cord attached to the end of the spear. It was this that the man was now pulling on. Don's right hand came up and wrapped about the shaft trying to hold the spear steady in an automatic but vain attempt to prevent further injury. His left arm hung limp at his side, the nerves non-functional after the assault to his body leaving his arm temporarily semi-paralysed. There was nothing more he could do, even if he'd been able to get to the knife in his pocket the cord was too far away for him to reach. He couldn't free himself. He was lost and knew it.

"Up!" The man ordered again, yanking firmly again on the cord.

Without knowing how he managed it Don made it up and stumbled forward a step as the man pulled, a satisfied smirk on his face. Having set the barb the man was trying to land his catch like an oversized fish. The agent now had only one thought, he had to warn Colby. There was another crackle in his earpiece, this time he recognised the voice of the other man calling him in concern. The younger agent would likely be heading to his side of the boat in response to the wild shot he'd fired. Convincing his hand to release its grip on the spear shaft he clicked the button on his radio.

"Abor-" His voice broke on the word and he tried again, putting everything he could into it as he toggled the radio. "Abort! Colby, abort!"

The effort cost him; he coughed again and spat the wetness out. A smear of red appeared on the deck in front of him. It was blood.

"_Don?"_ Colby's concerned voice sounded in the earpiece.

Don tried again. "Colby, abort. Get away, I-" He ended his call with a gasp of agony as the man jerked sharply on the cord.

"_Don!"_ Colby replied in alarm. _"I'm coming."_

He wanted to call the junior agent off, but he couldn't concentrate enough. Losing his grip on the transmit button he took another stumbling step forward in response to the pressure in his chest, then another. He was unable to do anything else except pass out and though he fought against that he figured it wouldn't be long before he lost that fight. Another involuntary step and he was just a yard or so away from his smiling captor.

A second man appeared behind the first. He looked their landed fish over, instantly recognising the three letters stamped prominently even if not contrastingly on the ballistic vest. He turned his head and spoke to someone over his shoulder. "It is not Coast Guard, he is an FBI agent. He is still alive."

"Bring him in." The order floated back.

Don had locked his knees to keep from falling back to the deck. He wasn't going to last much longer, the pain was intense. The feel of the spear inside his chest, the barb hooked up inside his rib cage was just…

It was indescribable.

The man tugged and he moved stiffly forward a few inches, fighting to maintain his balance. Through sheer force of will he managed to make his left arm move but he got nothing more than a twitch, certainly not the grip on the rail to his left that he wanted. His right hand was back in a death grip around the shaft of the spear and it wouldn't obey his command to let go. He couldn't call Colby back, nor could he reach his backup weapon even though it was almost nestled in the palm of his hand.

Another tug and another step forward. He was at the door combing now, his captor stepping back to make room for their prisoner to enter.

"Move it!" The man commanded taking another wrap of the cord around his fist.

Every movement of the cord translated to a movement of the spear, to more agony for Don. Involuntarily his leg moved and despite feeling as heavy as lead made it over the combing and to the deck inside the cabin. His other leg followed.

Abruptly he was grabbed by the upper arms and propelled several more steps inside the cabin before being shoved downwards into a seat. As his hand was prised off the spear the world fuzzed and went grey but he managed to hold off the blackness, maintaining semi-awareness. The spare weapon that had been so tantalisingly close was taken, unloaded and tossed aside. The offending cell phone that had landed him in this situation was switched off and dumped onto the table along with the knife from his pockets. Next his FBI radio was removed, the earpiece ripped painfully from his ear. The second smaller Coast Guard radio was pulled from another pouch on his vest and dropped with the rest onto the table. His badge and ID were last, handed off to a man that was being shown the deference of being in charge. All the agent could do was sit there; the manhandling and jostling of the spear leaving him gasping helplessly just like a landed fish.

There were hasty words in a foreign language that Don for the moment couldn't identify. But it was clear from the tone that orders had been given and the men hastened to obey. The one that had shot him remained as the rest rushed out the side door to search the boat. The one in charge, satisfied with the response to his orders approached the trapped agent.

"Special Agent Donald Alan Eppes, Federal Bureau of Investigation." The man finally said reading from the card. There was no response so he continued. "Tell me, what is the FBI doing here on my boat?"

Don struggled to focus his thoughts and found it a little easier this time to push the remaining fuzz away. The cord from the spear was lying discarded across the table in front of him. He figured that with no-one pulling on the spear he had a chance to stay lucid. The agent could manage the sharp pain that stabbed at him with each breath he took. Lifting his head he looked up at the man standing over him waiting for his explanation.

"Warrant."

The man picked up the plastic pouch that had also been pulled from one of the agent's pockets. He unfolded the piece of paper inside and saw that it was indeed a warrant giving authority for the vessel to be boarded and searched. A contemptuous smile curved his lips as he tossed the warrant aside.

"Like I said, what are you doing on my boat?" He demanded again.

This time Don heard the accent and was able to identify it as Russian. He remained silent.

"No matter, we will have time for that later. How many with you?"

More silence. Hopefully he was now alone. With the neutrally buoyant ballistic vest Colby should have slipped over the side and be swimming towards either another boat or a pick-up by the Coast Guard zodiac by now. Then rescue would be arranged. All Don had to do was hold out until then. But if the other man's displeased frown was anything to go by, holding out might be more difficult than it sounded.

"It would be better for you, FBI, if you tell me what I want to know." The man reached out a hand and took a firm hold of the end of the spear.

Don involuntarily gasped and coughed as the spear shifted. Without hesitation he spat the blood from his mouth towards his assailant, but he was already weak and the blood missed its intended target. The man had flinched backwards releasing the spear but then leant forwards, right hand again gripping the thin aluminium shaft. His lip curled into a sneer as he deliberately pushed slowly downwards forcing the point in deeper, twisting the spear as he did so for maximum effect. The agent tried but couldn't help crying out at the sheer agony before he slipped gratefully into darkness.

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At the sound of the single gun shot Colby froze, crouched in place. He scanned the deck ahead, behind and the cabin top above him but saw nothing. After listening carefully for a moment he thought he heard some thumps from the opposite side of the boat, but nothing closer. He squeezed the transmit button on his radio.

"Don?" There was no response and after a few seconds he tried again. "Don! Don, respond!"

"_Abor-"_ The voice broke off. _"Abort! Colby, abort!"_

"Don?" Colby was shocked at the rough sound of the senior agent's voice.

"_Colby, abort. Get away, I-"_ The instruction ended with an agonised sound heard both through the radio and directly.

"Don! I'm coming!" Though urgent he kept his voice down not wanting to alert Don's attackers to his location. Colby remained in place a second longer thinking furiously on a strategy. Much though he wanted to rush to Don's defence he knew he needed to keep calm and remain undetected until he had assessed the situation if he was to be any use.

There was a muffled shout from over to his left as he stood. Colby peered out to sea through the drizzle and saw a Coast Guard crewman waving at him from the deck of the next boat over. There was no way he could have failed to have heard the shot. Colby could do no more than wave urgently at the man, the radio they'd been given to communicate with the Coast Guard was with Don. His FBI radio was out of range from land and used an encrypted channel that the Coast Guard couldn't access. The man held up a hand, fingers widespread before closing his fist and reopening it. Colby interpreted that to mean _ten minutes_. Ten minutes for the Coast Guard to organise an armed party and return to lend assistance. That was too long; Colby had to do something now.

The man then pointed at the zodiac and then swept his arm up towards him. _Did he want a pick-up? _Colby shook his head then realising that the small movement would be difficult to see over the distance waved his left arm across his body as a negative. He pointed emphatically downwards. _He was staying_. The Coast Guard officer touched one hand to the top of his head, a diver's signal Colby recognised. _Okay_.

As the crewman hurriedly climbed into the zodiac to return to the _Seahawk_ Colby turned away concentrating on what he had to do. Looking up he found sufficient handholds and climbed quietly onto the cabin top. The cruiser was of the latest model, the style now leaning towards low-slung sleekness and thus no fly bridge. Moving slowly and silently, aided somewhat by the moisture slicked surface, he inched across the roof towards the opposite side of the boat and the sound of voices. Finally he peered over the edge and saw an empty deck. He was too late. There was a smudge of red and he recognised blood. Listening intently he could hear muffled voices from below him, from inside the cabin. Something had happened to Don and there had been no splash. He had to see inside.

Colby made his way forwards until he could lean out over the leading edge of the roof and see in through the front windows. He found himself looking into the deserted and dark wheelhouse. There was a door at the back which led into the illuminated main cabin area. It was open and it was through this that Colby saw a group of men suddenly appear and move across his field of vision. The logical conclusion was that they were starting to search for him.

Knowing there were only a few more moments before he had to move he adjusted his position in an attempt to see more of the cabin interior. Finally having some luck, he saw a man standing in the centre of the cabin and another next to a table, his attention on someone on the seat. Shifting some more Colby recognised the seated figure, it was Don. He blinked, there was what looked like a metal object protruding from the captured agent's chest or left shoulder, it wasn't clear which from his angle. Pushing his luck further he waited, watching as the man's mouth moved, clearly asking questions and just as clearly not liking the answers. Then in a move that made Colby's blood boil the man deliberately grabbed the metal object impaling his captive. He was torturing Don.

There was a scrape nearby and Colby had to turn away, searching for the cause of the sound. There was another from the corner of the superstructure and he pulled back. The searchers were coming up the side of the vessel and would soon be on the forward deck where he would be in plain sight. Reluctantly he moved back. As he slid back towards the centre of the roof on his stomach he heard a sudden cry of pain from below him. Colby could do nothing but grit his teeth together and silently promise Don that he would make sure the man was brought to account.

He had to come up with a plan, easier said than done when he was outnumbered and his partner was taken. It was only a matter of time before Don would be used against him. He gazed out towards where he'd last seen the Coast Guard cutter but it was hidden in the drizzle. The zodiac was also out of sight, a small wash all that remained to show its passage. He looked down at the water. His boss had ordered him to get away, he could jump over the side and swim for it. Just as quickly as the thought occurred he rejected it. His military training came to the fore, never leave anyone behind. He was well aware that this was hardly Afghanistan but there was no way he was abandoning Don, especially not after everything he'd done to save Colby earlier in the year and the trust he'd shown him since.

But he had to play it smart and work out a way that could turn the tables to their favour. To that end he moved towards the stern of the boat, an idea had finally begun to take shape. With the searchers still at the bow of the vessel he had a small window of opportunity before they started to head aft. A couple of minutes later he had finished his task. It was just in time as the expected call came over his radio at precisely that moment.

"_I have your partner."_ The Russian accented voice announced without preamble.

Colby hesitated a second before continuing his climb back up onto the cabin top. He moved silently, not wanting to give away where he'd been. He waited and the voice came again.

"_You will show yourself or he will suffer for it."_

"How do I know he isn't dead already?" Colby finally replied, whispering so his voice wouldn't give away his position prematurely.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Numb3rs: Speared**

_**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

CHAPTER THREE

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The ice cold water splashed onto his face made him splutter which led to coughing and pain but he was awake. Shaking the water out of his eyes he lifted his head and involuntarily flinched at the hand that was suddenly so close to his face.

"Speak." The man standing over him demanded.

Don moved his attention back to the hand and recognised the radio microphone being held in front of him. Stubbornly he kept his mouth shut. His resolve lasted all of a few seconds however as the man's spare hand moved towards the spear. He opened his mouth and the man's hand dropped back.

"This … is Eppes." His voice was barely recognisable, even to himself. He had no idea to whom he was speaking or even what he had been expected to say. Don tried to clear his parched throat in case more was needed but the Russian seemed to be satisfied, stepping back.

"You heard?" The Russian asked, speaking directly into the microphone.

"_I heard."_ Colby's voice replied from the speaker on the radio unit. Don saw that the earpiece had been disconnected making the speaker live.

"Show yourself-"

Don desperately leant forward, raising his voice to interrupt the Russian before the transmit button was released. "Colby, no!"

The Russian's hand wrapped around the end of the spear and once again Don failed to remain silent as the shaft was twisted. His right hand had clamped back around the spear but he just didn't have the strength to prevent the Russian's actions. This time the microphone was held towards him picking up the sound of his agony. The Russian abruptly released the spear having obtained what he wanted. Don fell back gasping and only clung to consciousness through sheer determination. He couldn't allow himself to surrender to the darkness again, no matter how attractive.

"_Leave him alone!"_ Colby demanded. Then the words Don didn't want to hear. _"I'm coming out."_

The Russian tossed the radio to the table and jerked his head at the man remaining with him. "Bring him in alive."

Don heard the order and was relieved, at least Colby wasn't going to be shot out of hand once he surrendered. That was not something Colby could have banked on. When this was all over, if they survived, he was going to have to explain to Colby the importance of following orders. His sudden anger born of concern was tempered with the knowledge that if their positions had been reversed he would have remained to help his partner, just as Colby had done.

All that was left now was to hope that one of the Coast Guard crewmen on a nearby boat had heard his wild shot and alerted the _Seahawk_. He'd taken the Coast Guard radio given to them by Lieutenant Dylan and now it was sitting uselessly on the table in front of him, leaving Colby with no way of contacting them to get assistance.

There was the sound of footsteps from over his head, moving forwards. Colby had been hiding on the cabin top. It was the safest place; few people remember to look up when searching for an intruder. The footsteps stopped and were followed by shouted instructions. Unable to move far Don could only wait as he heard a thump as if someone had jumped from the roof to the deck at the bow of the vessel. After that there were the sounds of a scuffle, some landed blows and grunts before silence. A short time later the door to the cabin slid back open and Don was able to turn his head far enough to see the other agent being bundled inside.

Colby's lip was split and he had a bruise already developing on his left cheekbone, he'd been roughed up in an obvious attempt to pacify him, but was relatively unscathed. Colby had taken worse before, much worse. He glanced over at Don, his eyes widening as he recognised the spear. Before he could say anything he was dragged forward and held securely as he was presented to the Russian. The Russian looked the younger man up and down and rattled off something in his native tongue. The men holding Colby responded by stripping off his equipment, including the vest until Colby stood unprotected. One of the men handed over Colby's weapon.

Don kept his face impassive as he frowned mentally. Colby, like him, carried a back-up weapon. The men's search had been as thorough as it had been rough, they could not have missed the second gun. That meant that Colby had removed it before allowing himself to be taken. Don's hopes that had sunk at Colby's quick surrender started to lift; the junior agent had a plan.

The Russian bounced Colby's gun on his palm before handing it to the man that Don now suspected was the second in command of their operation. He was never far from the man in charge.

The Russian snapped out some more orders and the men not occupied with holding Colby hastened to obey. Two went to the wheelhouse as the rest went outside. A moment later there were high pitched tones that Don recognised as oil pressure alarms followed seconds later by a rumbling from below them. The engines had been started, they were preparing to sail. A loud rattling from the bow that resonated through the cabin confirmed it as the anchor chain was being winched up.

"Good." The Russian finally said. He glanced at the speared agent before turning to the one being held in front of him. "I have asked him and he has not told me. I will ask you. What are you doing on my boat?"

Colby stared defiantly back at his interrogator. "We have a warrant."

Don felt a surge of satisfaction at that answer, Bradford had been right all those months ago. His team were a reflection on him. Colby's answer had been the same as his own and more importantly it had been delivered with the same attitude.

The Russian jerked his head. The man on Colby's left responded, suddenly pulling the agent's arm up behind him. He lifted until Colby's back arched and the agent was standing on his toes as the nerves in his shoulder hyper-extended. Colby grunted but otherwise didn't let on that he was in pain.

"It's on … the warrant." Don spoke up. His voice sounded as weak as he felt, he was feeling steadily worse as time went on.

The Russian glared at Colby a moment longer before coming back over to the table and picking up the document. Reading it over more thoroughly this time he saw the section that outlined the suspected offences which grounded the warrant and allowed for the search for evidence to support the crimes listed. Finally the Russian looked back up.

"Where did the information come from?" He demanded.

"We don't know." He found it hard to talk, his breathing shallow due to the pain in his chest. He coughed up some more blood that he carefully swallowed, not wanting a repeat of last time. He couldn't take much more abuse of his injury, the coughing was bad enough. Everything depended on his partner. He had to do what he could to protect Colby. At least one of them had to remain physically capable of action and that certainly wasn't him. It was also clear that one of them had to talk or else the other would be harmed. To that end, "We got that from the … the DEA."

"Why would the DEA involve the FBI?"

"They had … something else to deal with." He answered truthfully.

"Who else is here?"

"Just us."

The Russian's hand came back up, hovering just inches away from the end of the spear. "You lie."

"No!" Don denied desperately. He saw Colby start to strain against the men holding him. Once again he coughed up blood and swallowed it. He desperately needed some water but was not going to ask for any. "The Coast Guard … just brought us here … they have nothing to do with this."

A man appeared from the wheelhouse speaking rapidly. The Russian lowered his hand and went forwards, stopping at the doorway. He gave an order and a moment later the two agents could hear the marine radio.

"_This is the United States Coast Guard cutter _Seahawk_ to vessel _Saracen_. You will cut your engines and heave to. Prepare to be boarded."_ The message sounded like it had already been sent several times.

The Russian turned back and snapped out an order. Colby was wrestled sideways and shoved into the seat opposite his boss. One man remained with his weapon drawn to cover the two agents whilst the other raced outside. The Russian's lieutenant moved forwards and the two conversed rapidly for a moment as the radio message was repeated.

"Don?" Colby asked in concern. He saw that Don's head and shoulders were wet, along with the empty cup on the table. Water had obviously been thrown over him but that didn't explain the deathly pale skin and the sheen of sweat. He started to lean forward to examine Don's wound but was pushed back by the guard.

"I'm fine." Don rasped out. They both knew it was a lie but for now it would have to do.

"Bring one of them." The Russian finally ordered in English.

The other man came back and reached out to grab Don's left arm. The senior agent weakly fended off the man's hand with his right. Don then pressed his right hand to the table and pushed, trying to rise.

Colby also tried to stand but was forcefully shoved back down by the guard and a heavy hand remained on his shoulder. The man's weapon was raised and pointed directly between the agent's eyes in emphasis.

"Take me." Colby demanded as Don just made it to his feet.

"Colby-" Don protested.

Colby ignored him and pressed on. "He's too badly hurt."

"Tolya," the Russian called. "Bring the other one."

"Da, Kamenev."

Tolya pushed on Don's shoulder and the wounded man fell back onto the seat. The hand on Colby's shoulder was removed and he was waved to his feet with the gun. He moved to Don's side of the table and stopped to check on his boss and received a weak wave. Tolya drew his own weapon and took control of Colby, forcing him forward and away from Don. The other man remained, somewhat superfluously to guard the injured agent.

-11-1111-1100-10-11001-

Colby allowed himself to be propelled forwards. He stepped into the wheelhouse and stopped near the Russian leader, Kamenev and the radio. Tolya held position close behind him. Colby was only too aware of the gun aimed at his unprotected back.

"Coast Guard, this is _Saracen_." Kamenev said into the microphone. "You will listen to this man."

The radio microphone was held out to Colby. After a moment's hesitation he took it. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell them your situation. Tell them to back off. Tell them what will happen if they try to stop us." He did not need to explain the last any further.

"_Seahawk_, this is Agent Granger." He didn't like being used like this but if he could alert the Coast Guard to Don's condition he would play along.

"_Go ahead Agent Granger."_ Lieutenant Dylan replied personally, her tone guarded. She would be able to guess where this was headed.

"Special Agent Eppes and I have been taken hostage. Agent Eppes is seriously injured and in need of urgent medical care." Colby explained then hesitated, he'd said all he'd wanted. Tolya's gun nudged the back of his head and he continued. "The men on this vessel are heavily armed. You are to back off and allow this vessel clear passage. If you don't we will be killed."

"_Received and understood Agent Granger."_ Dylan replied. "Saracen_ you will not be permitted to sail whilst holding federal agents. Surrender the agents immediately."_

"You did not understand the agent, Captain?" Kamenev responded after taking back the handset.

"_I understood him."_ Dylan replied, her voice hard and determined. _"Understand this_ Saracen, _if they are harmed further I will fire upon you."_

Colby recognised an impasse when he heard one. The _Seahawk_ wouldn't let them leave with the two agents being held prisoner, the _Saracen_ wanted to leave taking the agents with them. The anchor was up and the _Saracen_ was slowly making way. Looking out the windows Colby couldn't see the Coast Guard cutter but it would not be far away. He found the radar display amongst the instruments and saw a strong blip that could only be the _Seahawk._ The cutter was only a fraction of a nautical mile behind them and holding position relative to them.

"You fire on us you risk the agents."

"_They understand the risk."_

"I have a gun on this one. If you continue to follow us you can pick his body up out of the sea." The Russian countered. Once again Kamenev held out the microphone.

Colby refused to take it. There was nothing more he could say that would affect the outcome of the standoff. The situation had been presented and now the two captains had to play it out. Unfortunately his opinion wasn't shared. He found himself lying on the deck after a blow to the back of his head from Tolya's gun. Hauled to his feet the microphone was again shoved at him, this time he took it.

"This is Granger. I'm sorry Lieutenant. They mean what they say." He took a breath in preparation. "So do I. Do what you have to." As he had expected before he'd uttered them, his last words earned him another blow. He staggered against a seat bolted to the floor and managed to keep his footing.

There was no immediate response from the radio but the next sweep of the radar beam showed the cutter falling behind. It was more noticeable on the following sweeps, the cutter dropping back as the _Saracen_ began to accelerate. To his disappointment the Russians had won the point.

"Take him back."

Tolya grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into the main cabin. A little dizzy he wove his way back and resumed his seat. He closed his eyes for a moment as he rested a hand on the knots growing on the back of his head.

"Colb?"

Colby looked up at the hoarse, weak voice. Despite his own condition his boss was worried about him. "I'm okay, Don. They made the _Seahawk_ back off."

"I heard." Don was just as disappointed as he was.

Despite the emotional blow both men knew from a tactical point of view that the Coast Guard had only backed off to give themselves time to work on a solution. The two agents just had to wait and therein was the problem.

They were left alone for the next few minutes giving Colby time to recover. The men were clearly still concerned at the threat posed by the Coast Guard, the majority of them remaining outside to keep watch. The rapidly diminishing light was only going to work in the Coast Guard's favour. But there wasn't much they could do to hide from the _Saracen's_ radar however, at least not until some more equipment was brought into the area that could blind the luxury cruiser. That would take time, time that Colby thought Don didn't have. The senior agent was visibly fading, his consciousness level dropping. Colby moved his foot under the table in a semi-successful effort to keep Don awake.

Colby surveyed the items left on the table, there were no real weapons aside from Don's folding knife. There was however, the small Coast Guard radio and it was in easy reach. That was what he wanted the most. Tolya was back at the door to the wheelhouse conferring again with Kamenev leaving them alone as before with just the one guard. This time man was standing a yard or so away, slightly forward as he was distractedly listening to his bosses. More importantly his weapon was hanging loosely at his side and Tolya's was away. This was the best chance they'd had so far and they couldn't count on getting another.

The junior agent kicked his boss more forcefully on the ankle. Don's head jerked back up, frowning at his actions. Colby flicked his eyes towards the guard and mouthed _'be ready'_.

Don instantly became more alert and nodded, shifting position carefully to move closer to the edge of the seat in preparation. He would have no idea what Colby had planned but he would go with the flow just as Colby expected.

Colby slowly reached out his hand and snagged the small radio, slipping it into his pocket under the table. He slid the last few inches to the edge of his own seat and with a last look at Tolya and Kamenev he launched himself at the guard. There was no time for finesse or to be anything less than brutal. What he planned could kill. Putting everything he had behind it Colby smashed his left fist into the side of the guard's head. The man dropped like he'd been poleaxed. Colby felt something give in his hand but he ignored it having expected to break a knuckle or two, the reason he'd used his left for the attack.

Bending he recovered the man's weapon and snapped off two shots towards the wheelhouse. A hit would have been a bonus but wasn't the aim of the exercise, the two men taking cover was. Using the moment thus gained Colby turned to Don and found his boss already on his feet and as ready to move as he could be, swaying slightly but determined. He noted that the cord attached to the end of the spear was wound around Don's left hand with plenty of slack so it wouldn't pull on the shaft. Colby had no choice but to ignore the blood that he could now see had flowed downwards under Don's vest staining his jeans as he stepped over to him, just as he also ignored the dark stain on the seat. Don had lost a lot of blood which explained the pale and clammy skin he'd noted earlier. Grabbing the senior agent's right arm he dragged him to the rear door.

.


	4. Chapter 4

**Numb3rs: Speared**

_**Disclaimer**__ – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

CHAPTER FOUR

-11-1111-1100-10-11001-

When he'd first been brought in Colby had checked out the door latch and saw that it should be easy to open. He was relieved to be correct, the handle turning easily after he flipped the small locking lever. As he flung the door open the Russians returned fire, their first shots pinging harmlessly, but far too close for comfort, off the door frame. Colby pushed Don through and slammed the door shut behind him. It was not so much cover as concealment, bullets would and did pass straight through the thin aluminium skin. But by that point he'd moved them sideways and had the thicker fibreglass bulkhead between them and the Russians. The fibreglass fibres should provide some protection but he wasn't going to wait to find out how effective they were.

He dragged Don further back and stopped at the tender. That's when he hit a snag. His intention had been to climb into the small power boat, taking shelter and concealment there whilst he called the _Seahawk_. Perhaps even get the launching mechanism to work and escape the _Saracen_ completely. But Don couldn't make the climb over the cradle and up into the boat. It was taking a fair portion of Colby's strength just to hold the senior agent on his feet. The rapid movement and jarring of his injury had exhausted the already weakened agent.

Colby's left hand was also already stiffening and swelling around the broken joints. There was no way he was going to be able to pull Don into the tender. He had to work on a plan B. Pulling Don around to the back of the tender he gently set him down against the _Saracen's_ transom out of sight and sheltered by the smaller boat.

"I'll be right back. Don't move."

"Funny, Colby." Don managed.

"You can chew me out later."

"Plan to."

Colby smiled having expected that he was going to be in trouble for disobeying a direct order earlier. He didn't care, he'd got Don out and he knew Don's heart wouldn't be in the reprimand.

Conscious of the seconds ticking away before the Russians organised themselves to come after them, he fired a shot back at the rear door as way of slowing them down. He then climbed up into the small power boat. Digging into the pile of life jackets he found the weapon he'd hidden there earlier. Abruptly realising what he was holding he tossed two of the jackets out and down onto the deck. They were going to need them for plan B, once he'd fully figured the rest of it out.

He then scrabbled around hastily, searching for and finding a small first aid kit. It was not much but would be better than nothing. He had to try and stop Don's bleeding. This reminded him of one other item Don would desperately need, given the volume of blood he'd lost. Water. It may not be the best thing to give his boss something to drink but he needed the fluid from somewhere and Colby didn't have a hospital in his back pocket. Fortunately the tender was well stocked and there was a sealed bottle not far from the first aid kit. Less than a minute later Colby was back on the deck behind the tender with Don.

Unscrewing the lid he held the bottle to Don's lips and allowed the agent to drink his fill. Don eased back with a contented sigh after draining the small bottle.

"Needed that."

"I thought you might." Tossing the empty bottle aside he pressed his back-up weapon into Don's right hand. He maintained his hold on the gun a moment longer. "Can you manage this?"

"Not dead yet." Don's fingers curled around the butt and he pulled the weapon from Colby's light grip.

"Sorry, boss." Even as gallows humour went it wasn't funny. Don's condition was already perilous and could only have been worsened by what Colby had just done to get him out of the cabin.

Don shifted slightly before coughing. Turning his head to one side he spat out some blood. It was the first time that Colby had seen this although he'd earlier noticed a rim of dried blood around Don's lips. Not a good sign. Don took a couple of more shallow breaths. "Time to call … the cavalry."

"The thought occurred." Colby replied mildly. The thought had more than just occurred; they needed the cavalry post haste.

Pulling the radio from his pocket he switched it on, the few seconds needed for the set to finish going through its start-up process seemed to drag interminably. Using the enforced wait wisely he listened for the Russians but heard nothing above the cruiser's engines. He figured they were most probably working out their plan of attack. Whatever the reason for the lull, it worked for him. As far as he was concerned, they could take their own sweet time. Finally the little screen on the radio stopped scrolling through start-up menus and the radio beeped softly, it was ready for use.

"_Seahawk_, _Seahawk_, _Seahawk_ this is Granger, over." A sudden thought struck him and a little belatedly he checked the present channel on the screen. It was a relief to see it was different from the one the _Saracen's_ radio had been set to. Hopefully that meant this was a private Coast Guard frequency, one not able to be monitored by civilian radios. Any advantage they could obtain from private comms was all to their benefit.

"_Granger, this is_ Seahawk. _Go."_

"_Seahawk_, we're on the rear deck and free for now. Can you send the zodiac to pick us up?"

"_Zodiac is in the water near your location. What are your intentions?"_

Colby figured that the zodiac with a much lower profile and far less metal in its construction would be relatively invisible to the _Saracen's_ radar. That's why he had asked for it. It was also why he was not surprised to hear that it was not far away keeping pace with them. "We plan to enter the water and-"

Gunshots cut him off. He dropped the radio and snapped off a round in reply. He heard another shot and realised that Don had also managed to return fire. Even though he'd given his boss his back-up weapon he'd not counted on Don staying awake and being lucid enough to use it for their defence. He knew he shouldn't have underestimated the senior agent, he'd seen enough offenders do that to their peril.

Bracing his right hand on his knee Don was able to keep his aim relatively steady without having to support the weight of his arm or the weapon. Moving his knee moved his aim, all he had to do was pull the trigger.

Several more shots were sent their way, one ricocheting off the tender's cradle. Both agents again returned fire, Don to his right, Colby to the left. Thus they had both avenues of approach covered. Although that sounded ideal their tactical situation was far from perfect, they were outgunned and their ammunition supply was limited to that already in their guns. The Russians easily had the advantage with greater manpower and firepower. A fact amply demonstrated by the amount of fire that was currently being sent their way.

The two agents remained in shelter with Colby eventually squeezing off another precious round to keep the Russians back. Abruptly the shooting stopped and both agents waited in the sudden relative silence, weapons up for the next move. Seconds ticked by and still nothing happened.

Thinking that he may not get another chance Colby reached for the first aid kit. He turned to his boss. "Can you keep us covered? I need to see what I can do to stop the bleeding."

Don glanced at the kit then returned his attention to his field of fire. His head drooped and he forced it back up. "Be quick." He rasped.

"Yes, boss."

At last Colby managed to properly inspect the spear protruding from Don's chest. It had gone clear through the front of the Kevlar vest but it was difficult to tell just how deeply it had penetrated. He shifted and peered at Don's back, no sign of an exit wound. He had no idea what type of barb was attached to the shaft, but he couldn't even see where the barb screwed into the aluminium tubing. That suggested it was deep. Assuming the head was either an arrowhead or the more common swinging barb there would be no way to remove it other than by pushing it deeper and through the agent's body. There was no way in hell that Colby was going to do that.

"Here," Don said abruptly. His left arm shifted slightly and there was a clatter as he dropped something to the deck. "Cut the damned line."

Colby saw that his boss had dropped his knife, Don must have grabbed it from the table as he'd taken out the guard. The other agent had wedged it somehow into his semi-useless left hand. Once again he'd underestimated his boss, Don had been alert enough to grab the knife during their escape.

Unfolding the knife he followed Don's order, carefully cutting away the cord without jarring the spear and tossing it to one side. Colby wished there was some way he could cut the shaft itself but he had nothing that would do the job. Instead he eyed the straps holding the ballistic vest together wondering if he could or even should cut the other panels of the vest away to get to the point of penetration. He decided against it. His first aid training told him that even though the vest was soaked with Don's blood removing it could disturb any clotting that had occurred and increase the bleeding from the wound. Don could not afford that. It also meant that Colby couldn't move the vest to pack more dressings directly around the wound. There was only one other option. As gently as he could, he tightened the straps holding the vest in place, applying pressure around the wound.

"Trying to … kill me, Colby?" Don protested as the constriction on his chest increased. It didn't affect his breathing, he was already panting shallowly.

"Not yet." Don's words had sent an unintended chill through him. What he had planned next could just as easily kill his boss as save him. There was no other option, they could not rely on the Russian's mercy.

"_Granger this is _Seahawk_."_ The radio lying abandoned on the deck came to life.

Scrabbling for it he pressed the transmit button. "_Seahawk_, go."

"_We are closing up with you. They have told us they have you pinned down. Confirm your location and status."_

That must have been the reason for the stay in hostilities, Kamenev had been in contact with the Coast Guard again. From the sounds of it he was making threats against the agents in an effort to force the _Seahawk_ back once again. "We are secure for now on the rear deck. We have cover, weapons and are able to return fire."

"_Received."_

Colby glanced at the transom. To climb that they would need to break that cover. He leaned out slightly, peering around the tender to the edge of the cabin checking to see what the Russians were up to. A flurry of shots came his way as said Russians spotted the movement. As he ducked back to safety Don sent a couple of rounds back their way. The Russians keeping them pinned were taking their jobs way too seriously for Colby's liking.

"We're going to need some covering fire, Seahawk." He radioed back.

"_Romeo. What is your plan?"_

Colby quickly laid it out then glanced back at his boss. Don felt the gaze and looked up at him before nodding his approval. He had the same information as Colby and could only come to the same conclusions.

"_Romeo. Standby."_ Before the call was terminated Colby heard a male voice in the background, Kamenev was still in radio contact with the _Seahawk_. It seemed Dylan was in the middle of two different conversations at once. A few seconds later Dylan returned. _"They are threatening to burn you out."_

Colby started in alarm just as the gas fumes reached them. Over the noise of the _Saracen_ underway he hadn't heard the splashes as the gas was poured onto the side decks. With the vessel still accelerating the bow was higher than the stern allowing the gas to run towards the pinned agents. The drizzle soaked decks served as a lubricant to aid the flow of the gas and within seconds they were soaked in it.

"They've poured gas onto the deck." Colby reported. He put his gun onto the deck as he grabbed for the life jackets. They had to get over the side now. "We need that cover!"

"_Thirty seconds."_

"FBI!" Tolya called from Colby's left. "Throw your guns away and come out. I do not wish to set fire to Mr. Kamenev's boat."

Sorely tempted to reply with a round Colby made no move to pick up his now useless weapon, the muzzle flash could set off the volatile fumes. The canopy overhanging the rear deck kept the drizzle away and allowed the fumes to float above the liquid gas. He didn't waste time replying, working on strapping Don into a life jacket as best he could, hacking away a section around the spear to make it fit.

"FBI!" Tolya called again.

"Alright!" Colby yelled back to buy time. He quickly pulled his own jacket on before touching Don on the shoulder. "Boss, I-"

Don knew what he was trying to say. The only way he was going over the side was if Colby threw him over. He didn't have the strength to make it himself. He also knew that sudden movement and immersion in cold water was highly contra-indicated given his condition. He didn't hesitate. "Do it Colby."

Still trying to buy time for the _Seahawk_ Colby called out to the Russians. "You win! I'm tossing the guns. Don't light the gas!"

"Now, FBI!" Tolya insisted.

There was the sudden loud 'whoop' of a siren. Colby turned towards the welcome sound to see the _Seahawk_ appear out of the gloom. He squinted as the cutter's powerful spotlights suddenly blazed into life flooding the starboard side of the _Saracen_.

"Now _Seahawk_!" Colby yelled into the radio.

His instruction was immediately complied with, the cutter opening fire with the heavy .50cal gun mounted on the forward deck. There was some lighter, small arms fire as well, all aimed at the _Saracen's_ cabin area and more specifically at the men clustered on the side deck. The Russians on the starboard side of the _Saracen_ tried to return fire. Colby ducked as a round from the port side ricocheted off the deck a short distance away. A shot seemed to have been fired at them.

The agent figured it had been a stray, the two agents were no longer any sort of threat, the cutter was. The Russian should be scrambling to return fire to it, confident that the agents were still pinned down and now held under the additional threat of the gas being lit.

After that Colby didn't worry any more about it as he dropped the radio and hauled Don up. The other man let out a strangled moan and went limp. Colby couldn't hesitate now, turning Don's unconscious body until his back was nestled against his chest. Wrapping his arms protectively around the other man's torso he rose to his full height and pushed as hard as he could with his legs, rolling them both over the transom and into the sea. At the last moment he covered Don's mouth and nose with his hand to prevent him inhaling sea water.

Fortune smiled on them, there was no duckboard to bounce off on the way down.

.


	5. Chapter 5

**Numb3rs: Speared**

_**Disclaimer**__ – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

CHAPTER FIVE

-11-1111-1100-10-11001-

Spluttering, Colby forced his way to the surface aided by the buoyancy afforded by the life jackets. He made sure Don's head was tilted back and by moving his hand on the side of Don's face protected his airway from the choppy water in the _Saracen's_ wash. Listening closely he was relieved that Don was still breathing. Reassured that he hadn't killed his boss he simply floated, watching as the luxury cruiser continued away. It altered course to one side in an obvious attempt to avoid the cutter but to no avail. The nimble _Seahawk_ continued to pace the fleeing vessel and maintained a withering hail of fire.

The two duelling vessels had disappeared into the gloom several minutes before he heard the lighter sound of the zodiac's outboard motor. From the tone he could tell it was moving slowly, as it should, having been warned that the two agents may appear somewhere in the cruiser's wash. He waited until it sounded very close before starting to call out to it.

There was an answering shout and a powerful HID flashlight picked them up out of the gloom. The zodiac's outboard was shut down soon after and it glided in the rest of the way. Helpful hands from the four crewmen onboard reached down and he surrendered Don into them.

"Careful of the spear!" He warned.

One of the crewmen swore upon seeing the injury as they gently hauled the unconscious agent into the little boat. They laid him on the bottom and reached back for the other agent after directing him to swim around to the opposite side. After he was pulled in Colby took a moment and rested as the motor was restarted and they rapidly accelerated. The sudden cold immersion had set his head to pounding again.

Once the zodiac was up on the plane Colby rolled over and sat up. He carefully moved around so he could see what was happening with Don but couldn't go any further as he didn't want to unbalance the boat. The other agent was hidden beneath a silver emergency blanket and had been placed onto his side as a crewman kept watch on his breathing and pulse. Another crewman was keeping Don stable so that the spear wouldn't be jarred by their high speed passage. The crewman felt Colby's eyes and looking up nodded in encouragement. Don was still alive and holding his own for the moment.

The sounds of gunfire became louder as they approached the still fighting vessels. The zodiac abruptly changed course, swinging out wide and approaching the _Seahawk_ from the side in the shelter provided by the larger ship. Colby saw that the cutter was no longer powering through the water, but was drifting as they continued to exchange fire. They must have disabled the _Saracen's_ engines. Trying to confirm his suspicion all Colby could hear were the guns and the _Seahawk's_ powerful diesels idling away. Someone was also calling for the _Saracen's_ surrender over a loud hailer.

A hand grabbed Colby's shoulder and he was pulled back to crouch near the stern of the zodiac. He waited as a crewman secured a line to the side of the cutter and clambered up to the deck. He returned half a minute later with a litter and another crewman. The men kept a low profile due to the firefight that was still raging. Colby moved forward to try and help but was pulled back again. He had to let them work, they were trained for this and knew what they were doing. In a very short space of time Don had been manoeuvred into the litter and strapped down. One more crewman climbed up and with the three on deck lifting and the one on the zodiac controlling the litter's movement they had Don hauled up onto the cutter in very short order. A hand pushed on his shoulder. Colby turned back to see the crewman wave him forward, he could board the cutter now.

As he climbed up he heard the crewman make a quick report of their location and status on his radio. He couldn't hear the reply as the crewman was wearing an earpiece. Reaching the deck he headed off towards the main cabin at a crouching run to avoid the bullets flying this way. Turning back briefly once he'd reached the shelter at the door he noted that the other crewman and the zodiac had gone.

Entering the main cabin he found two men working quickly over Don. Colby rushed forward and was relieved to see that they were not performing CPR as he'd first thought. They had already cut away the life jacket and ballistic vest and while one worked on packing bulky dressings around the spear shaft, the other was cutting off Don's wet clothes. One man looked up and saw him.

"Get some warm blankets."

"Where?"

"Oven."

Colby dashed to the kitchenette and opened the oven jarring his left hand in the process. He shook off the pain and kept at his task finding two blankets shoved inside. The oven was off, they must have warmed it up before shutting it off and putting the blankets in to heat. He pulled them out and rushed back, shaking them out and laying them over Don's bare legs and lower torso as the crewmen continued to work. After that Colby could only watch and hand them equipment as they stabilised Don. He noticed that the one in charge, the cutter's medic, was wearing an earpiece and was talking to someone, seemingly receiving instructions on Don's care.

Finally one crewman left to return to other duties as the medic and Colby stayed to monitor Don's condition. After a few minutes the medic pressed a button on his earpiece and made a progress report to the person on the other end. The spear had been cut off a few inches above Don's chest. Drips had been put into the backs of both of the senior agent's hands and an oxygen mask covered his face. Colby looked his boss over as he adjusted the blankets to ensure they completely covered him, another two had been put into the rewarmed oven to heat. There wasn't much more that they could do for him here, Don needed care that only a fully equipped ER could provide.

"_Agent Granger_." The lieutenant's voice came from a speaker mounted in the ceiling. "_Report to the bridge_."

Colby was torn, he didn't want to leave Don, but he suddenly realised that the shooting had stopped and he needed to know what was happening.

"Go. I'll call if anything changes." The medic offered. "He's stable."

After one last look Colby headed forward and up the companionway to the bridge. "Lieutenant?"

"Agent Granger. The _Saracen's_ surrendered." Lieutenant Dylan reported. "We're in the process of securing the vessel before we bring the prisoners on board."

"Where are you going to put them?" The saloon was the obvious choice but Don was there and couldn't be moved.

"They'll be put in the cabins below but will have to pass through where you are to get to the companionway. They'll be guarded, don't worry. Just wanted to update you and let you know."

Colby looked out the wheelhouse window and saw some of the Russians lined up on the side deck of the _Saracen_. He could see some Coast Guard crewmen moving about the other vessel. The once pristine luxury cruiser was pockmarked with bullet holes and black smoke was rising from near the stern. Some of the Coast Guard's heavier rounds must have made it though the _Saracen's_ hull to disable the engines. Looking down onto the Coast Guard deck he saw a single crewman holding a M16 steady on the Russians. The cutter's crew of ten had their hands full at the moment.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, Agent. We got it under control. I've alerted our base and they are arranging for a helicopter to meet us at the marina or sooner if this clears."

Colby looked out the window again, this time at the weather.

"The vis is too poor to attempt an extraction here given that Agent Eppes is stable." Dylan explained knowing what he was trying to gauge. It was now nearly fully dark and the drizzle was still falling. Low cloud cover added to the problems making it dangerous for the helicopter to attempt the medivac under these conditions unless absolutely necessary. If it was clearer closer in shore as it had been on their way out they would make the attempt.

Colby figured the other crewman had reported on Don's condition after he'd left them. "How long before we head back?"

"As soon as we've transferred the prisoners and have the _Saracen_ under tow. We're working as quickly as we can."

"Thanks Lieutenant."

She looked him up and down for a moment. "You should get some dry clothes on. Ask Curtis, he'll get you something. And get him to look at your hand while he's at it."

Colby hadn't realised how cold he was until she'd reminded him. He also stank of gas and had forgotten all about his hand. He looked at it now and saw that it was badly swollen and showed some interesting blue bruising. "I will, thanks." But there was something he needed to do first. "Can I borrow your phone?"

The lieutenant handed him portable satellite phone, rather than directing him to the wall mounted unit. It seemed she realised that he wanted some privacy for this call. He went back down and through the saloon to stand outside in the lee of the weather on the opposite side of the superstructure from the _Saracen_. His first call was to the FBI, giving a report to the duty agent to be passed up the line. His second was longer and harder.

"_Alan Eppes."_ The call was answered.

"Mr Eppes, this is Colby."

"_Hey Colby. How are you today?"_ The cheerful voice inquired.

"Ah, I'm fine, Mr Eppes." Colby said. Alan had always seemed to enjoy talking to him which just made this harder.

"_Colby,"_ Alan's voice had suddenly changed, he was realising that something was wrong. _"Where is Don?"_

"He's here with me." Colby started then gave the bad news, that Don was seriously injured and they would be making their way back in. Under Don's standing instruction he was limited in what details he could give, just that they were at sea and the nature of Don's injuries.

"_When will he be in?"_ Alan asked mildly.

Colby was a little surprised at how well Alan was taking the news, no demands for more information as to just how his son came to have a spear in him nor was he laying blame for it on Colby. Then again, Don had been injured before and Alan knew that his team was there for him and each would do everything they could to prevent one of them being hurt. Granted the team was in a bit of a mess at the moment, what with Megan gone and Charlie on the outer, but basic principles still held. "I don't know. As soon as we can. We have a helicopter on standby for him."

"_Which hospital?"_

"I don't know. I'll let you know when I know."

"_Okay, Colby."_ Alan said after a few moments during which Colby had heard him relaying the information in the background, most likely to Charlie. "_Call us when you know."_

"I will." Colby waited until Alan cut the connection before he hung up his end.

He returned the phone to the bridge before being directed below to the medic's own cabin to get a change of clothes. The cutter had some spare clothes on board for people fished from the water but the medic, who was of a similar size and build to the agent, offered his. Colby returned to the cabin a few minutes later looking the very picture of a Coast Guard crewman.

He showed the medic his hand and was immediately fussed over; the medic had been concentrating on the seriously ill agent and hadn't even noticed Colby's injury. They agreed that he'd probably broken some bones and was also going to be visiting hospital on his return to the mainland. For now though he was bandaged up as best the medic could manage and that was it.

Colby sat back down beside Don just as the first of the Russians was brought through under guard. He stood and took up a position protectively between the Russians and his boss, his look daring them to make trouble. He owed his boss some heavy duty retribution, just as he had a little coming to him. The Russians correctly interpreted his look, cast their eyes downwards and kept moving, obviously not prepared to challenge when they were outnumbered.

It was now more than half an hour later, all the Russians, including Kamenev and Tolya had long since been herded below. The one he'd king hit was amongst them having survived Colby's blow. He was advised that two had not survived the gun battle. Thankfully there were no injuries amongst the _Seahawk's_ crew.

The cutter was making all speed back to the marina having decided to leave the _Saracen_ anchored where it was with a pair of crewmen standing guard. The vessel was not taking on water as they'd first feared and the cutter could make far better time without the deadweight astern. Los Angeles Port Police were sending out one of their boats to take up with the crewmen on the _Saracen_ to assist.

Abruptly they started to slow and changed course. Colby looked up in alarm and started to his feet. He was determined that nothing would delay them.

The medic put out a hand. "The helicopter is on its way, Agent. The weather's clearer here so we're going to evac your partner. They must be close."

He'd been in regular contact with someone over his headset giving reports on Don's continuing condition and must have been updated in return. The drips had already been replaced once and the dressings packed around the spear shaft were slowly turning red. Don had not shown any signs of life other than his regular, but shallow breathing.

A minute later a brilliant spotlight illuminated the stern deck as the sound of the helicopter reached Colby's ears. The cutter would have been directed to head upwind and proceed at a set speed to assist the helicopter's final approach. Crewmen began rushing around preparing to move Don, wrapping him in a windproof blanket and strapping him back into the litter along with the oxygen cylinder and the drips. They moved him to the rear of the saloon as they waited for the helicopter to be ready. Eventually the linesman was winched down. Once he was on the deck he looked towards them and waved his arm. Don was carried out and the linesman attached the straps to the litter, double checking each before waving up at the unseen winchman high above in the hovering helicopter.

It had taken all of five minutes and the helicopter was gone. The linesman had answered his shouted question and now Colby hurried back up to the bridge and the phone to advise Don's family of the helicopter's destination.

.


	6. Chapter 6

**Numb3rs: Speared**

CHAPTER SIX

-100-1111-1110-

The faint beeping noise was the first thing he noticed. Then the slightly antiseptic smell and finally that he was warm and lying on something comfortable. He drifted for some time breathing in the cool dry air as he simply let himself be. He woke several more times before his mind started ticking over and analysed his surroundings. The beeping he recognised as a heart monitor and the funny smell of the air he was breathing indicated that it was oxygen, the press on his face came from the mask. That meant hospital.

A little curious as to why he was in hospital he carefully started moving each individual part of his body. Legs, fine. Right arm, fine. Left arm, not so good, the movement had sent pain searing across his upper left chest. Now he discovered it also hurt to breathe. His eyes snapped open as he remembered, forgetting for the instant that if he was in hospital, he was safe.

"Easy, Don. We're here." Alan's voice sounded from beside him. A second later his father was leaning over him, his thumb pressing down on the call button in his hand. Charlie hovered behind him. "You're in hospital and had surgery late last night."

"Surgery?" He repeated, throat very dry. He hated how anaesthetic always did that. It also explained why he'd drifted in and out a few times.

"Donny, do you remember what happened?"

_As if he could forget?_ But he simply nodded, wondering if he could get some water for his throat. He opened his mouth to ask but Alan had started speaking.

"They took the spear out and repaired the damage to your left lung. They said it came very close to your heart and that you were lucky."

He swallowed trying to moisten his mouth and throat. "Where's the spear?" He wanted to see what had caused him so much pain.

"They've taken it as evidence." Alan explained and saw his son nod.

Alan had heard the roughness in his son's voice and dug into a jug on the stand and gently moving the mask aside he slid an ice chip between Don's lips. His son took it greedily, sucking on the melting ice with obvious pleasure. He'd been moved up from recovery a few hours ago and had been sleeping ever since. The nurses had only just brought in the ice chips expecting him to be awake enough to manage them before too much longer. Due to the injury to his lung he was still being given oxygen through a mask rather than a cannula as the delivered concentration was higher.

After a second ice chip Don's throat felt much better. He pushed the mask aside himself this time to make it easier to speak. "Time?"

"Early Monday evening, its half past five."

_That long?_ "I guess I was in pretty bad shape, huh?" His father didn't immediately answer him, casting his eyes downwards away from his own.

"The doctors told us you nearly bled out, son." Alan said hesitantly after the silence had started to become uncomfortable. They hadn't been able to see Don before he'd been wheeled into this room; he had been taken straight from the helipad on the roof to surgery. For those long hours they'd only had what a doctor had briefly told them to go by as Alan signed the consent forms, Don had lost a significant amount of blood. "They said the Coast Guard medic saved you, got enough fluids into your veins to keep you alive until they could transfuse you."

After the surgery the doctors had given them their prognosis of Don's expected full recovery. They'd listed Don's hurts and what they'd done to fix them before dropping a bombshell. The wound had showed all the hallmarks of being exacerbated by deliberate manipulation of the spear whilst it was impaled in his son's chest. Alan could not imagine anyone doing such a thing to his boy which upset him all the more.

Don could see that his father was relieving the moment, feeling again the distress that his son might not survive this one. He'd been there, he'd known he was getting close, that his blood loss was dangerous and had made his peace with that. It was always harder for those who would have been left behind. "Dad. Dad! I'm okay. I made it."

Alan looked up, eyes glistening with tears he was fighting not to shed, tears that no longer needed to be shed. "I know." He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "When I see the Coast Guard I'm going to thank them."

"Yeah." He had no memory of that part of it, the last he remembered was being pulled to his feet by Colby on the back deck of the cruiser then nothing more until he woke up here. Colby had put himself in significant danger to try to save him, without the other agent he wouldn't be here. "And Colby … he got me out."

"Most definitely Colby." Alan agreed. While they didn't know the whole story yet, he knew that much. He remembered Sarah Dylan from the last time Donny had been on her boat, rather he remembered her at the dinner they'd had at the house the next evening. The lieutenant had visited the hospital a short time ago to check on Don and told them a little of what had happened. It was enough to tell him that he owed Colby his son's life.

A nurse had since arrived and had immediately started taking observations effectively halting their conversation. Don was then put through a neurological exam and by the time the nurse had finished, so was Don, drifting off to sleep again.

When he woke up again he could tell that it was several hours later, the window which had earlier shown a deepening orange glow of the early stages of sunset was now fully black. He also realised the mask was gone to be replaced by a nasal cannula. His mouth wasn't as dry and the pain less than it was before.

"Donny?"

"Hey, Chuck." Don turned his head towards the soft voice.

"Bro'. How're you feeling?"

"Better than earlier." He answered.

A hesitant tapping at the door interrupted. Alan went to greet the visitor who'd remained at the door out of Don's sight. "Colby!"

"Hey, Mr. Eppes. I just wanted to see how he was." His voice was quiet as if he didn't want to disturb a recovering Don.

"Come on in, he's awake."

Don could hear the sheer happiness in Alan's voice at being able to make that simple statement. Considering the alternative, Don could understand how he felt.

"Boss."

"Hey, Colb."

"Thought you'd like to know, the Coast Guard got them all." Colby leapt straight in with what he felt his boss most wanted to know.

"Good."

"Don, can you tell us what happened?" Charlie finally asked. "Lieutenant Dylan told us a little, and there's been some stuff on the evening news about a shootout between a Coast Guard cutter and another boat. Sarah mentioned a DEA search warrant?" He prompted.

"Colb?" Don asked. At the younger agent's questioning look Don nodded, confirming that this could be discussed in front of Charlie. Due to the close watch that had been put on his own work after Charlie had lost his clearance Don had kept his brother at arms length whenever it came to the FBI. Instructions he'd passed on to Colby and David. Until now he wasn't sharing anything, even unclassified stuff. Now he figured his family were owed a reasonable explanation of what had happened to him. Being hampered by not knowing the full story himself however, Colby was the only one able to answer Charlie's question.

Colby started on the tale, leaving out the Russian's names and some of the more serious aspects of the assault on Don but covered the rest. As Charlie had said, a fair amount of media coverage had been already given, it wasn't everyday that there was a shoot out in such a pubic area like the anchorage.

When Colby reached the part about his injury the smirk on Tolya's face after he'd first been shot suddenly flashed through Don's mind. Kamenev's eyes and the expression in them as he had forced the spear in deeper shortly afterwards was also all too fresh in his memory. Involuntarily he shuddered, having those men in custody sounded like a damn good idea. They had enjoyed dealing out pain far too much to be allowed to walk around in civilised society. Mentally he shook himself, he didn't really want to dwell on that now. He knew he would have to relive it all during his statement and again in court but that could wait for then, for when his chest didn't hurt so much.

Don turned his attention back outwards, seeing an odd expression on Colby's face as he finished telling of their rescue from the sea. "You okay?"

"I'm not the one that got shot." Colby said. "Don if I could have, I-"

"Nah, uh." Don didn't want the other agent going down that track. He'd done more than enough in the situation without taking the spear shot as well. The team had rescued Colby most of a year ago now from his own near death experience. "I think its Don-season now, Colby-season closed out months ago." Don saw two sets of jaws, belonging to his father and brother, drop at the same time.

"Don-season?" Alan blustered. Charlie looked incapable of speech. The humour obviously fell a little flat for them.

"Nah, I think Colby-season has a little more in it yet." Colby added. He held up left his hand showing off the bandages and splints. "See, I got a war wound too." The bruise on his cheek was also colouring nicely.

"And so you should." Don saw that the mood had successfully lightened as he'd intended. Now was the best time to raise and immediately kill the other issue. "Disobeying a direct order deserves some punishment after all."

"He gives you any trouble, Colby, you let me know. I'll sort him out." Alan interrupted sharply, sounding more than a little annoyed. He'd recognised the duck-season, rabbit-season cartoon reference and whilst he hardly found it funny he recognised it as a form of dark humour. His son's sudden change of tack surprised him. _A reprimand for Colby? He wasn't having that_.

Colby opened his mouth to reply but Alan beat him to it.

"I mean it. You are like a son to me, a member of this family. If there is a problem between my boys, any of my boys, I'll sort it." Alan turned a stern look on his eldest. "Clear?"

"Clear." Don managed a warm smile. He owed Colby his life, something he would not forget in a hurry. He glanced over at Charlie who had stepped forward to stand almost protectively next to Colby, closing up ranks. He'd been teasing but both his father and brother had thought he was serious. No more teasing. "You're off the hook, Colb. That's official."

"Don, I-" Colby started to protest. He had disobeyed a direct order after all and deserved a rebuke. He had deliberately let himself be taken putting two agents at risk instead of one. Sheer luck and timing had allowed him to pull them both out. A raised hand stopped him.

"I'll be putting in a recommendation for a bravery award. You went above and beyond." The injured agent took a deep breath. He was tiring rapidly but he wanted to get the words out. "Thanks."

Colby took Don's offered hand in a firm grasp. "Boss, anytime."

END

_A/N: And we come once again to the end. I may have hurt Don a bit more than usual but he is on the mend and back in one piece for next time…_

_A big thank-you to all those who read along and especially to those who reviewed. Your comments have been inspiring. Cheers!_


End file.
